


lalalalia

by gly13



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Minhyuk-centric, introspective, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gly13/pseuds/gly13
Summary: Minhyuk's doing fine. He's managing.And by the time he realises he's not, there's not much he can really do.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk, brief minhyuk/shownu, side changki - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67
Collections: OBSCURE SORROWS FIC FEST





	lalalalia

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my entry for the obscure sorrows fest so thank you so much to the mods for organising this <3
> 
> cw// talks about mental health and depressive thoughts and behaviour
> 
> my words:
> 
> Lalalalia  
> the realisation while talking to yourself that someone else is within earshot, which leads you to crossfade into mumbled singing, an auditory sleight of hand that distracts the audience from the exposed platform under your persona while you prepare to saw  
> your confidence in half.
> 
> Ambedo  
> a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.
> 
> this fic is really different to anything i've written before so i hope you'll like it <33
> 
> [to set the mood](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4B1YtrDLzSYyc7en5QUwA0?si=cShnNkPBT8WWyOF4QQcoSw)

There’s a gentle balance to the world when it’s abandoned.

Like a candle flame flickering in a light wind that threatens to extinguish it but just doesn’t quite manage. Like the universe knows. This great old thing filled to the brim with stories and moments and lifetimes  _ knows  _ that it is alone and gaping. And in that way it seems so very human, it’s almost frightening.

Abandoned like a lost dream or an attic no one ever goes into. And it’s these small corners of the earth that play host to the greatest and most daring thoughts and wonders.

It’s a scratched CD or an incomplete maths question. Odd and uncanny in its familiarity. Yet off-putting and jarring in that indescribable way. It’s a barren field or a suspiciously still lake. Things that don’t feel right but are so undeniably natural you have to accept it and move on.

And Minhyuk wouldn’t describe the third-floor stairwell of the biology department as abandoned. Far from it, actually.

Not when there’s still imprints of dirty boots and fallen chocolate buttons wrappers on the floor. With students traipsing up and down the stairs with varying degrees of urgency each day. With its smudged windows and functional, if a little damaged, electric lights.

So, no. Not abandoned. Not the kind of place forgotten to the universe and her oldest, most forbidden secrets. Not thrown unwillingly into the abyss of human memory, like a child’s hideout in the forest they forget how to find when they grow up.

Not abandoned in any sense of the word, really.

But, when it’s like this. Quiet and barely-there ‒ fading in weak light as the sun drags itself reluctantly over the horizon and away from the moon, it feels like it is. It feels abandoned and empty and all the other things Minhyuk finds magical.

It feels distant and removed. Its open-ended hallways without doors, leading directly into long, straight corridors so perfect for pacing Minhyuk thinks they must have been built with that purpose in mind. Its pale, peeling walls housing lines of small windows, leading to a fire escape at one end and a dead-end on the other. A couple of empty lecture halls and a biology-specific library that are locked overnight.

Minhyuk himself feels a bit like a ghost, walking up and down. Like a spirit clinging to the spot even as all others move on and away. He doesn’t mind it so much. It makes him feel special. Like this is  _ his _ place.

He passes the stairwell again for what must be at least the thousandth time this night, crossing from one hallway to the next and past the set of double doors that leads to yet another corridor. Quite honestly, this building is more hallways than it is rooms, but it’s still Minhyuk’s haunt of choice on nights he can’t sleep.

His feet press against the floor as he walks, the rubber sole of his converse making no noise. That’s not to say it’s silent though. Not with Minhyuk muttering under his breath like he’s giving a particularly passionate speech to an invisible audience.

He’s supposed to be reciting facts he’ll have to know for his test in ‒ he checks his phone ‒ two hours. His textbook is slouching, unopened and mightily tempting atop his rucksack on the floor. And every time he passes it, his gaze flickers to it before he pulls it up and moves on.

Only, he’s not actually reciting anything he needs to. Not anymore.

Instead, it’s nonsensical reassurance to himself that he’ll be alright. Though his current actions and locations scream proof to the contrary. They’re embarrassing things, things he can only say because the words are whispered in an abandoned place, meaning that they are born abandoned, too, and no one else will ever hear them.

He says them frantically, like a madman. Repeating himself routinely and stumbling over the words as he goes through all of the affirmations he wills himself to believe.

He reaches the dead-end and spins around, fully intending on continuing when he realises that something is wrong. There’s a figure. Stood in the stairwell maybe ten metres in front of Minhyuk.

Belatedly, Minhyuk hears one of the double doors swing shut.

He draws to a stop a few steps away from the person, still muttering under his breath and mind chanting  _ what are you doing _ at him over and over. And, in his panic, he lets his crazed muttering filter out from his lips following a made-up tune before it morphs into the actual tune of an actual song and finally it settles into him singing the song.

It’s a horrible sensation, being caught talking to yourself. He’s not sure if it’s better to be caught singing in an abandoned building at four in the morning but it feels less personal than monologuing his deepest insecurities to a stranger.

At that, Minhyuk begins to look ‒ actually look ‒ at this person who has interrupted his private freak-out and he realises with a cold sinking feeling that he knows who it is.

Hyungwon Chae. Dressed in a hoodie and jeans, not unlike Minhyuk himself but a couple of inches taller and very very imposing with his blank, handsome face.

Minhyuk doesn’t  _ know _ know him. Rather, he knows  _ of _ him.

He’s not sure how, but he’s heard his name crop up every now and then, enough to match a face with a name, enough to recognise him after half a minute of dedicated staring as he sings.

Time passes and Hyungwon doesn’t say anything.

The lyrics of the song seem to bounce off the walls of the hallway, unfeasibly loud in the quiet space. Echoing off the ceiling back to him like some forcible reminder of his embarrassment and how he is still very much stuck in this situation. It’s awkward, that kind of dense, stifling tension you could only hope to cut through with a saw blade. But Minhyuk hopes against hope that Hyungwon will remember this moment for the singing and not whatever he’d managed to hear before Minhyuk had spotted him.

Hyungwon’s eyes are still staring at him, so heavily unimpressed it’s almost impressive.

And Minhyuk’s still singing.

It’s quite possibly the worst stand-off of all time, an impassive stare versus the mumbled, only vaguely in-tune words of a song he’d forgotten he knew.

Time stretches between them like an endlessly long rubber band, pulled tight past its limit of proportionality.

Minhyuk finally trails off as he reaches the end of the song, and hums the last few bars of the instrumental under his breath because otherwise it feels abandoned. Hyungwon is still staring at him.

He doesn’t applaud, and, while expected, it still annoys Minhyuk. It’s easier to be annoyed than utterly mortified. He fights the urge to curl into a ball or neatly deposit himself out the nearest window.

Without the song, the stairwell is silent and that’s so much worse Minhyuk almost considers starting another song just for the sake of undercutting the awkwardness that’s crawling up his throat and dangling like weights from his organs.

They stare at each other and Minhyuk attempts to get his brain to shut the fuck up. Hyungwon is unreadable. Face blank and arms unmoving at his sides. But his gaze is piercing and Minhyuk feels himself shrivel under it.

Minhyuk isn’t sure how long they stay standing like that but he knows that his head is spinning and hot and his cheeks are probably red with shame.

He feels like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, or next to a broken glass. He feels out of his depth, like Hyungwon is now entirely in control of this situation he’s just walked into, pulling on the puppet strings of the situation.

But he doesn’t move, and so nothing happens.

And then he leaves. Hyungwon blinks, and then he’s moving down the stairwell.

Minhyuk listens to his footsteps as they grow quieter and quieter. They resound up the hollow chasm of the staircase but Minhyuk doesn’t dare move, still rooted to the spot by his own humiliated shock.

He stands there for too long before he leaves.

  
  


Quite honestly, the test could have gone either way. His mind was elsewhere.

  
  


**___**

The sun is as hot as it can be in early October as Minhyuk walks across campus, large folder secured under his arm and a song Kihyun recommended playing in his ears. He makes his way through the scattering of students a lazy Thursday afternoon produces and to the small art supplies shop just around the corner from the main university buildings.

It’s exactly what you’d expect an art supply shop to be: streams of yellow sunlight, a wind chime above the wooden door to signify when someone enters, canvases set up on easels so they can display two products at once.

There are prints for sale and some not for sale hanging on the walls, and a certain wornness to the entire shop that feels so unmistakably  _ artful _ that Minhyuk can’t help but smile whenever he crosses the threshold. Which is, admittedly, perhaps more often than he should, art major or no.

He smiles at the clerk behind the counter, familiar after so many visits, before moving off to one of the wooden cabinet units that act as display shelves.

His eyes scan over the array of paints, looking for his favourite palette that he only realised he was running low on this morning. Acrylics.

He makes to grab the box when his phone buzzes against his thigh in his pocket and he digs it out.

**Jooheoney [14:37]**

can u pls get some beer and gummy bears

Minhyuk laughs quietly and makes to put his phone back into his pocket when it buzzes again in his hand.

**Jooheoney [14:38]**

gummy worms will do if they don’t have bears

Minhyuk’s smile grows.

He nabs a new set of pastels alongside his paints and strikes up a conversation with the clerk as he hands over his money. He puts his new supplies neatly next to his textbooks in his rucksack and leaves the shop, letting the wind chime twinkle like auditory starlight behind him as the door shuts.

  
  


“Here’s your beer.” Minhyuk slings the six-pack at Jooheon’s form under his covers and smiles when he hears a grunt, knowing they’ve hit. “And your gummy bears.” He free-throws the packet at what he hopes is Jooheon’s head before dropping down onto his own bed on the opposite side of the room.

“Thanks,” Jooheon says, and his voice is quiet and almost indistinguishable where he’s speaking into his blanket, but Minhyuk’s had practice translating.

“Is that all for you, by the way?”

The noise Jooheon makes is muffled but Minhyuk recognises it as a  _ no. _ “For the team.”

“Ah, right,” Minhyuk says. The team. He knows that Jooheon plays a team sport, he’s just not sure which one.

His phone vibrates.

**Kihyunnie [15:12]**

it’s not weird to find a voice hot right??

Minhyuk’s not sure how he’s supposed to react to that. All in all, not the strangest thing his best friend has ever texted him.

**Me [15:13]**

no?? 

**Me [15:13]**

i mean there’s loads of people known for their sexy voices

He thinks that’s the end of it, but he should never underestimate just how much Kihyun loves proving him wrong.

**Kihyunnie [15:13]**

right. it’s not weird to find an underclassman hot right?

**Me [15:14]**

no they’re only a year younger it’s not weird

**Kihyunnie [15:14]**

cool thanks just checking c u later

Minhyuk huffs out a laugh and lets his phone fall from his hand and onto his mattress. He turns to see Jooheon now sitting up in his bed and going at the gummy bears like a champ.

“Were you here last night?” Jooheon asks then, around a mouthful of gummy bears. “I don’t remember you coming back.”

Minhyuk’s touched that he noticed but he doesn’t feel like going into the rapid anxiety that drove him away from the comfort of his bed and into what was supposed to be an empty stairwell but was instead an awkward encounter so he just smiles.

“Nah.” He shakes his head like it’s loose from his neck. “I got caught up studying.”

It looks like Jooheon wants to say something, maybe probe a little deeper but Minhyuk’s thankful when he doesn’t. They’re not that level of close, anyway. They’re at the ‘buy me food’ and ‘wanna come to this party?’ kind of friendship, not the type of friends close enough to ask  _ are you okay _ and warrant an actual answer.

And that’s okay with Minhyuk. It’s easier that way.

**___**

“Do the clouds ever look too heavy to you? Like they might fall?”

Minhyuk doesn't have to turn his head to know that the look Kihyun is fixing him with is more disgusted than it is contemplative.

“Are you high?”

“I don’t think so,” Minhyuk says and Kihyun snorts.

Even so, Kihyun humours Minhyuk and Minhyuk thinks that Kihyun can be a good friend when he tries to be.

“That’s what rain is, isn’t it? When clouds get so heavy they have to fall.”

Minhyuk tries to nod but it’s difficult with the back of his head flat against the grass of the quad. He keeps his eyes on the sky, and Kihyun’s gentle humming from where he’s laying with his head next to Minhyuk but his body in the other direction seems to get farther and farther away.

He pulls himself back into the moment.

“So who is it?” He nudges Kihyun in the head with his own. “The underclassman with the nice voice?”

Kihyun splutters on air and Minhyuk watches like it’s a sitcom playing out in front of him.

“This guy in my department,” Kihyun manages to say. “I heard him rap.”

“Uh-huh,” Minhyuk smiles suggestively. “This guy have a name?”

“Well, I assume so,” Kihyun says with his trademark irritation that he uses to mask his embarrassment, or fondness of Minhyuk, or anything really. “I just don’t know it.”

Minhyuk cackles. “Look at you, all bashful over some kid whose name you don’t even know.”

Kihyun shoves him in the head with too much force for his height. Minhyuk resists the urge to comment on it, sure that it will just earn him more pain.

“I’m not bashful, you cock.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Kiki.” He knows that Kihyun hates that nickname, which is why he delights in saying it so much.

They lapse into a different conversation, one which is a decidedly less painful experience for Minhyuk as they watch the clouds. And Minhyuk thinks he could spend a lifetime like that, relaxed. The usual underlying thrum of his heart settled as he lies next to the person who matters most and talks about things that don’t matter in the slightest.

But Minhyuk’s thoughts, like they always do, betray him. And they lead him back to the thing that’s stayed on his mind, poignant and indelible, even though it should be innocuous and insignificant.

“What do you know about Hyungwon Chae?”

If Kihyun’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

“Not much,” he says. “Why?”

Minhyuk doesn’t know whether to categorise the emotion he feels then as disappointment or relief.

“Just had a bit of a weird run-in with him the other day. Nothing important.”

Kihyun lets it go, going off on a rant about something or the other but Minhyuk isn’t really listening. He’s too occupied wondering why his words felt like lies on his tongue.

**___**

Minhyuk’s art palette ‒ which this time is just one side of an old cereal box ‒ has nothing on it but different shades of yellow and orange. He was tempted by outright red but then decided against it. Monochrome is his thing this time around and his professor seems to like it well enough, so it’s better to be safe than brash and risk his grade.

His sketches are never detailed and this time is no different. Assorted overlapping shapes that would look nonsensical to anyone else but when Minhyuk looks at them, he can see how the colours will overlay and come together to build a bright homage to the sun.

It’s not the most inspired work he’s ever created, but he wasn’t feeling very inspired when he conceived it. He does like the sun, though. A couple of his friends call him sunshine when they aren’t calling him annoying, too, so he feels enough of a connection with it to waffle some sort of emotional bullshit in his write-up.

It’s hot in the art studio, the radiators pumping warm air into the space even as rain hammers at the windows from outside.

It’s always like this, so he’d come prepared in a pair of shorts. Jooheon had taken one look at him before he’d left their dorm room and called him a lunatic for going across campus dressed like that but Minhyuk had just grinned.

He’s half-sitting, half-crouching on his wooden stall and with his knee bent like this, it’s easy to become more focused on the whale tattooed there than whatever he’s supposed to be painting.

He traces the lines he’d originally drawn himself with his eyes and imagines what it would be like if it could really swim. If the whale could come alive and move around his leg like it were the ocean. He laughs a little to himself at the image that takes hold of his mind and allows himself to bask in it as reality slips away.

Even through the music playing from the portable speaker he’d stolen from Kihyun sitting on the workbench next to him, he can hear the rain. And he’s become so untethered he is certain that he can hear each droplet individually as it hurtles downwards from heaven and collides with the unforgiving glass of the second-floor art studio. There’s nothing collective about their journey.

He can feel the stuffiness of the room like it’s a second skin, pulling beads of sweat from his pores like magnets digging under the layers of his flesh. And the cramp that was beginning to form in the leg propping him up all but disappears.

His eyes lose focus and suddenly but slowly he can see nothing but the blurry outline of his work: a blob of yellow. He uses the last of his rapidly decaying cognitive ability to force his attention to the window because he’s starting to hate yellow and the world outside is grey with the odd streak of green.

From the corner of his eye, he can see his now cold cup of coffee clumpy where he didn’t stir it properly, cheap brand of the beans evident in every sip he’d remembered to take and in the stale, dreary brown mud water. 

It’s rippling slightly. And Minhyuk’s made aware of the fact that he must have knocked the workbench as he turned, though he’s not wholly surprised he didn’t feel it.

Now he’s looking at it, too, the rain sounds closer than it was before. Like it’s falling directly into his ear, tapping softly against his eardrum but still echoing impossibly loudly as the act of simply listening to the rain becomes more intimate and personal than it should ever be.

And maybe it’s a sign of hubris to think it, but he does it anyway. Because it feels like the rain is beating against the side of an art building that needs repairs just for him.

He watches each droplet find its place on the glass and wonders if they resent the cloud for letting them fall just because it could not bear their weight for any longer.

He wonders if he will fall at some point.

He wonders if he and everything he is ‒ and is fully aware that he is ‒ will become too heavy for anyone else to be able to pretend they can still float with him dragging them down every step they take.

He wonders what form the glass pane he ends up on will take.

The trees bend in the wind; nature versus nature. And Minhyuk, so very human, is but a spectator to their battle.

He wonders whether the trees will mourn him, or even notice his absence. He wonders if he will.

The trees are lilting like trained dancers, like the storm is a song, a performance they have learnt since they were saplings. He laughs at the thought of a tree in a tutu. Because it distracts from the ache and the confusion.

The rain continues to pour and Minhyuk continues to stare. And he thinks that the universe might not have abandoned him just yet. And that thought is just as comforting as it is terrifying.

**___**

Minhyuk returns to the stairwell maybe a month or two after he was last there despite the lingering shame because he can think of nowhere else to go.

Frustration and stress gnaw at him like lashes as he deposits himself on the bottom step, snug against the wall, and pulls his laptop from his bag. His group project partner is useless, and now he only has seven or so hours before he needs to present to his class about the conservation of marine mammals.

He needs to fix together a PowerPoint and write a script and make it all look at least half-decent.

He overcomes the urge to sigh by pulling up the document he’d sent his partner weeks ago with his half of the work ‒ the actually difficult data collecting and analysing ‒ and listing through what he needs to do under his breath.

He chants the information in a hushed, angry whisper so he can summarise and type it up. He narrates himself through it. Hoping that doing that will make the ordeal seem less overwhelming, a little more manageable.

He gets stuck into it for a moment, fully determined, and he’s telling himself this as he works when he hears something he very much does not want to hear.

Footsteps. And it’s like a cold hand has wrapped around his guts and yanked them out of his body.

And so, he does what worked so wonderfully well the last time this happened and he reverts to his apparent only coping mechanism when being caught talking to himself by a stranger and he starts singing.

There’s nothing like the easy (if a little painful) cross-fade of last time. This change is much for abrupt, jolting. One second he’s complaining about group projects and telling himself that he’s an independent man who never needed a partner in the first place and the next he’s warbling through that same song and pretending that’s any less weird.

So there he is, hunched over a laptop on a staircase and singing a song at a time and place he should most definitely not be doing either of those things.

He’s hoping they’ll just pass him, the strange boy singing on the floor, by and he’ll become a funny anecdote they’ll recount to their friends but no such luck.

The footsteps stop, much too close to Minhyuk. And he can see the outline of a person in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t dare look up. That would make it real and he very much does not want this to be real.

But the person is still not moving and Minhyuk is still singing and one of them is going to have to do something and Minhyuk still has to finish his stupid PowerPoint so he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to prepare to dive head-first into the ice water this action promises to be.

He unscrews his eyes and looks up. He’s surprised he manages to keep singing when shock overcomes him so quickly he has to focus to not let his jaw drop. But, because Minhyuk ‒ much like Kihyun ‒ only really exists to embarrass himself, he continues to sing all the while maintaining eye contact with Hyungwon and thinking  _ oh god, not again _ .

He finishes the song in much the same manner as last time, and is fully expecting Hyungwon to leave in a minute or so when Hyungwon does something Minhyuk is definitely not ready for and opens his mouth.

“You a music major?” Hyungwon asks.

That’s not what he’d been expecting. He had been mentally preparing for something along the lines of  _ why the fuck are you always singing in the biology stairwell, you freak? _ so this is something of a nice surprise, if not completely wanted. Minhyuk shakes his head slowly, afraid it's somehow a trick question and he's missing something.

“Theatre?”

He shakes his head again.

“It’s just,” Hyungwon seems to struggle for a moment, but that can’t be right, “you're always singing when I see you.”

He sounds confused, rightfully so, and Minhyuk is beyond embarrassed.

Minhyuk laughs so terribly awkwardly. “Yeah,” he says, but can’t think of any explanation other than that so he doesn’t offer one and hopes Hyungwon takes the hint to leave.

Hyungwon does no such thing.

“What do you study then?” There’s a sort of indescribable quality to his voice. He doesn’t sound interested but he doesn’t exactly sound  _ dis _ interested either. Like he operates in some sort of grey area between the two.

“Double major in fine art and marine biology,” Minhyuk says. He hates how stiff his voice sounds. But Hyungwon is mysterious to the point of imposing and he really doesn’t want to make a fool of himself even more than he already has.

“Art and marine biology?” Hyungwon prompts, and it’s clear he’s expecting some sort of explanation.

Minhyuk shrugs. “I like whales. I like drawing them, too.”

He says it because it’s true and hopes that’s enough for what is essentially a stranger. But Hyungwon’s gaze feels silently assessing and Minhyuk finds himself wondering if he’s somehow said something wrong.

“You have a nice voice.” It doesn't sound sincere but it doesn't sound snide either. It's an odd balance, entirely neutral and Minhyuk hates it.

“Thanks,” Minhyuk says, a little stunted.

Hyungwon nods at him and then he’s disappearing off down the stairs once again and Minhyuk is left alone.

The encounter sits like a hollow paperweight in his chest. There’s something disconcerting about the situation, about Hyungwon as a person, and he’s consumed by it, even as he moves through the motions of his assignment.

He feels like the puppet strings wrapped around his limbs are finally being pulled and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit.

  
  


**___**

His partner doesn’t even bother to show up to the presentation which is both good and bad.

Good because it means Minhyuk gets all of the credit for the project and bad because it means that Minhyuk has to keep talking and talking all the while trying to ignore the ringing in his head that sounds suspiciously like the cursed song that is apparently his go-to auditory disguise.

**___**

Jooheon drags him to a house party a few weeks later, and Minhyuk goes without protest even though he doesn’t really feel like it.

Minhyuk dresses in a yellow shirt tucked into ripped skinny jeans and beams when Jooheon says it suits his hair.

He looks in the mirror and pushes a hand through it, admiring the way the now blond locks fall back to his head. Kihyun had helped him dye it a couple of days ago and he was surprised it had turned out so nicely.

“Sunshine in human form,” Kihyun had called him sarcastically, but there was that small hint of fondness in his eyes that told Minhyuk his words were anything but.

He leans closer to the mirror, fumbling for the eyeliner on his bed because that’s what he’s feeling today. Jooheon laughs at the sight of him blindly stabbing at the mattress with his open palm before he takes pity on him and places it into his hand for him.

Minhyuk shoots him a brief, grateful smile before turning back to the mirror and applying it in a thin line over the pale yellow eyeshadow already there. He can see Jooheon in the mirror, behind him and browsing through his piercing collection for what he wants to wear tonight.

Mellow tunes from some soundcloud rapper Jooheon’s a fan of filters through the small space of their dorm room and it all feels so tame and peaceful. Minhyuk likes it, and fleetingly wishes he could exist in this moment forever, where nothing matters and nothing really happens.

And, of course, it’s over all too soon.

They walk over to the party. It’s being held by a senior Jooheon knows somehow, probably because he’s just as sociable as Minhyuk even though they manage to run in completely different circles. It’s funny, but Minhyuk likes it because it always provides an escape, new people to talk to.

It’s one of the nicer dorm buildings. One of the ones with actual apartments as opposed to just rooms like Minhyuk’s own. Jooheon leads him up the stairs and into the right apartment, and Minhyuk is hit with the full force of the party the second he crosses inside.

The space inside is dark, draped in the dark blue of night but interrupted periodically by the flash of neon lights courtesy of a rudimentary light system Minhyuk’s sure they got off of Ebay. The music is loud, as is customary for a house party, and Minhyuk can feel it like it’s being played directly into his bones, rattling them.

Kihyun texts to say he’ll be there in a few minutes so Minhyuk heads straight for the kitchen whilst Jooheon leaves to go greet the host and it’s not long before he’s got a drink in his hand and he’s in conversation with a girl he’s never met before but laughing brightly anyhow. She compliments his make-up; he cracks another joke; she throws her head back in laughter and Minhyuk feels pride fill him alongside his drink as he takes another sip.

And like he’s just blinked, but must be at least an hour later, he’s sitting on one of the couches in the living room, somehow the main focus of the group of people that have gathered around him. They laugh at his jokes and ask him about himself and Minhyuk tells himself that it makes him happy.

It’s easier to slip easily into it, the Minhyuk who talks enough for everyone and sloshes the drink in his cup around as he gestures wildly, recounting some story that has everyone howling. 

He’s not sure where Jooheon or Kihyun are but they can’t have gotten far.

They ask for his Instagram and his Snap and he gives it to them easily, unsure if he’ll be up to responding when they message him. 

Someone ‒ one of his new friends ‒ grabs him by the arm and drags him to where people are moving their bodies in what only the drunk would call dancing. He participates for a while, not really feeling like he’s there but he wants these new people to like him so he pretends he does.

The laughter and music echo around the shell of his skull together as he drifts away. Their wavelengths mixing into indistinguishable messes of noise.

The thick blanket of blue that had covered the apartment slips away into something darker ‒ murkier ‒ as the night wears on. The lights still flash and the bass still shakes the floor but Minhyuk finds himself detaching more and more.

And maybe he could blame it on the alcohol, but he hasn’t had nearly enough. No, this is all him.

“I’ll be right back,” he shouts to his new friends, knowing as he says it that he’s not telling the truth.

He leaves the apartment, a little unsure on his feet but otherwise fine. He can’t place the reason he needed to leave the party, just that he did. But he’s always been a little too impulsive, driven by instinct.

His mind is slower than usual. And, though it’s not entirely out of commission, he still puts his faith in his feet to lead him wherever he needs to go. It’s half a surprise and half not that he ends up in the stairwell.

Tipsy and lost, he sits on the floor and hopes his brain will sort itself out. He’s not hopeful, but he’s still trying and that’s going to have to be enough.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps, so he doesn’t have time to prepare before Hyungwon is in front of him again. He looks the same as he always does whereas Minhyuk’s sure he looks worse. Minhyuk hadn’t been talking this time, so he loses his ability to sing instead and so this becomes their first meeting marked by silence rather than song.

Hyungwon doesn’t say anything, but his eyes move to just above Minhyuk’s own. It takes Minhyuk a moment before he realises that Hyungwon’s staring at his hair, and he pushes a hand through it self-consciously.

“It’s nice,” Hyungwon says, and Minhyuk feels his ears heat up. Hyunwon’s eyes seem to survey him from head-to-toe quickly and Minhyuk resists the urge to curl in on himself. “You don’t look dressed to be sitting in a stairwell.”

Minhyuk coughs out a laugh, shocked but not in a bad way. “And I was the other times?”

Hyungwon shrugs with one shoulder. “Yeah.”

Minhyuk nods slowly, figuring out what to say to that. “I was at a party.”

Hyungwon raises an eyebrow, too perfectly. “And you’re not there now because…”

“I felt a little out of place.”

The words slip out before he can reign them in. He’s not sure where they come from, not even sure if they’re entirely true. But he’s said them now.

Hyungwon seems to take a moment to process that. He sits next to Minhyuk.

“How come?”

Minhyuk shrugs and his shoulders feel too heavy.

“Just didn’t.”

“Do you feel like that a lot?” The way Hyungwon says it doesn’t sound probing. And Minhyuk finds it far too easy to open up despite being so used to keeping quiet.

“I’d say so. But I’ve learnt to live with it, you know?”

“Sitting on the floor all alone at night doesn’t really seem like living with it.”

Minhyuk turns his head to look at Hyungwon and offers him a lazy grin. “I’m not all alone though, am I? I’ve got you.”

Hyungwon rolls his eyes and it’s the most emotion Minhyuk’s ever seen from it and that makes him a little excited. Hyungwon is a riddle, a code he wants to decipher without really knowing why.

“You didn’t know I was going to be here. Doesn’t count.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Minhyuk says. And then he surprises himself. “But maybe I hoped.”

Hyungwon seems just as shocked as he is, so they sit in silence again for a little. It drags on until Minhyuk begins to worry that he’s scared Hyungwon off. That he’s scared off the one person he can say these sorts of things around.

“Do you feel out of place now?” Hyungwon’s voice is small but calculated and that’s a little frightening but Minhyuk tries to look past that.

Minhyuk gives him the respect of thinking about it ‒ properly thinking about it ‒ before he answers.

“No.”

Hyungwon nods and Minhyuk wonders what he looks like when he smiles. He’s sure it’s pretty.

“Good.”

Minhyuk thinks so, too.

  
  


**Kihyunnie [03:56]**

where did you go?????

**Kihyunnie [03:59]**

srsly not funny i cant find you

**Kihyunnie [03:59]**

im calling the cops if you dont reposnd

**Kihyunnie [04:00]**

MINHYUK

**Me [04:03]**

sorry felt ill see you tomorrow get home safe

**___**

It becomes more frequent after that. Their run-ins, their meetings.

Or maybe Minhyuk just starts thinking of his days in terms of his last meeting with Hyungwon, rather than assignments or paintings or hours or any of the other things he used to use to measure.

It's not quite a pattern, nothing organised or arranged. But they seem to find each other pretty easily, always when one of them needs the other. Minhyuk questions the universe, wonders if this is some sort of sign that he hasn't been abandoned.

He’s not sure if he could describe what they talk about. They’re usually heavy topics, ones Minhyuk wouldn’t dare broach with any of his other friends because it’s a side of him he doesn’t really like, but Hyungwon doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s not sure what it is about Hyungwon that makes it easy to talk to him. Maybe it’s the stairwell and how Minhyuk has always felt detached from real life there. Maybe it’s because Hyungwon has already seen him in such bad positions there’s no more pretences he could hope to put up.

Either way, it’s nice to have him and their midnight rendezvous. It’s nice to feel like he fits every now and then.

**___**

The tips of the grass tickle the arch of his ears, soft and gentle like the feathers of a pillow. The sun is hot on his chest and his legs and especially his bare forearm which is draped across his eyes to protect them from the light.

His rucksack is somewhere on the grass to the side of him and he’s content to just lie there, ignoring the assignments he needs to do and errands he needs to run. He’s not tired, so to say, he’s just in need of a little break and he doesn’t think that’s a bad thing.

He basks in the feeling of laziness and the world spinning around him.

Voices of other students blurring into each other, the solidity of the ground beneath him and the heat of the sun wearing down on his skin. He breathes in deeply, too aware of it, and feels the cool air spread through his lungs.

It feels weird but calming and Minhyuk breathes it out again like he’s deflating. The world exists around him and Minhyuk is happy to just be a part of it but not quite. Abandoned but not really. Schrodinger’s college student.

“Minhyuk!”

Minhyuk lifts his arm from over his eyes and blinks a few times to get the world to come into focus again. He pulls himself to sit up, ignoring how dizzy it makes him feel, and looks around for whoever said his name.

A shadow is cast over him, dark and large, so he turns to see Hyunwoo standing behind him, towering over him more like. Hyunwoo is the kind of guy everyone knows: tall, kind, and handsome. He’s a year older than Minhyuk so Minhyuk’s only met him himself a handful of times, because he’s on the same sports team as Jooheon. If he remembers right, he was at that party a few weeks ago, too ‒ one of the people that had sat on the couches with Minhyuk and listened to him talk.

He smiles brightly at Hyunwoo, feeling a little inadequate as he runs his eyes over Hyunwoo’s form. He bashfully shakes his hair into his eyes and wills down the flush that threatens to crawl up his neck because Hyunwoo’s looking directly at him and that’s a little much.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo says, his voice smooth, like he’s rehearsed what he’s going to say. Minhyuk almost balks at the thought that  _ he _ would warrant someone doing that.

“Hey,” Minhyuk echoes back, his voice coming out weak. Hyunwoo’s smile grows, and his eyes tilt upwards into smiles of their own.

“Are you coming to the game on Saturday?”

Minhyuk cocks his head to the side and tries to think. “Yeah, I think Jooheon invited me already.”

Hyunwoo nods, maybe a little too excited for information that really isn’t all that ground-breaking. “Cool, just wanted to make sure. See you there.”

“I’ll be,” Minhyuk starts, but Hyunwoo is already leaving and jogging back across the quad to rejoin his friends, “there,” he finishes, and lets the words fall into existence only to be abandoned in the second that they do.

The encounter leaves him feeling a little confused but also strangely giddy. He lies back down, decidedly more excited for Saturday’s game of whatever than he was before.

**___**

“It doesn't look right.”

He’s got an easel set up on the floor of the stairwell in front of him, a canvas with an almost finished painting of cliffs in a coastal landscape on it, and his fingers cramping from clutching at his paintbrush for too long.

Hyungwon looks up from the book he’d been reading and stares impassively at the painting.

“What’s wrong with it? It looks good to me.”

“I don’t know,” Minhyuk says. “It just looks off.”

Minhyuk squints his eyes, tilting his head this way and that to try and change up his perspective. He's done something wrong. Messed up his proportions, used the wrong colour, forgotten to add a shadow. He just can't figure out what it is.

Hyungwon closes his book and comes to sit next to Minhyuk. He scrutinises the canvas, eyes roaming over every part of it meticulously, thoroughly. Minhyuk feels bad, like he’s wasting Hyungwon’s time but Hyungwon doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“I can’t see anything,” he says finally, sitting back, just behind Minhyuk. “You’re good. I think you’ve just been staring at it too long.”

Minhyuk nods but he doesn’t look away. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. And he’ll hand it into his professor and they’ll realise it straight away and then he’ll suddenly see it, too and it’ll all be ruined.

“Hey.” Hyungwon pokes him in the cheek with a long finger. “It’s time to go to sleep anyway; we’ve been here for ages and it’s late.”

Minhyuk sighs but, with one last prolonged look at his work, he agrees.

“How’s your book?” He asks as he packs away.

Hyungwon pulls a face and Minhyuk laughs. That’s enough of an answer.

**___**

On Saturday, Minhyuk takes too long deciding on an outfit.

“It’s just a game,” he mutters to himself as he straightens out his shirt. “No need to get nervous.”

Jooheon is already at the sports hall, probably warming up and stretching or drinking water or whatever else it is that people who play sports do.

But that means that the room is empty, bar Kihyun but he doesn’t count because he’s texting rapidly on his phone with a stupid grin on his face. He’s on Minhyuk’s bed, lounging across it like it’s his own and he’s too absorbed with nice-voice-underclassman, or Changkyun as they now know, and his apparently hilarious texts.

They’re going to meet Changkyun at the game, and Minhyuk knows him well enough at this point to not blend into a third-wheel whenever they’re together. Mostly, he gets by teaming up with him to gang up on Kihyun together, and there’s not really a better passtime.

Looking back in the mirror, he’s met with much the same feeling he had looking at his painting.

Like something is wrong and out of place and he just can't identify what. Like he’s some cosmic joke that everyone else is in on and he just can’t quite figure out the punchline.

He frowns at his reflection; it frowns back.

“Come on,” he says, picking a pillow up off of Jooheon’s bed and lobbing it at Kihyun. “Let’s go.”

  
  


The sports hall is more filled than Minhyuk would have guessed it would be. There’s chatter and the smell of popcorn wafting through the air and Minhyuk waves at the people he recognises before craning his neck to try and look for Changkyun.

As he does so, he spies the court. There’s a high net spanning its width and the opposing team is queing up in a line on the side closest to him, practising jumping up and hitting the ball over it.  _ Ah _ , he thinks,  _ volleyball.  _ How could he have forgotten.

He can’t see their own team, hidden behind the people standing in different clusters around the room but he can finally see Changkyun and he waves him over to them with a grin.

Changkyun, as always, is dressed in black skinny jeans with his nails painted the same colour and the smile he gives Minhyuk upon seeing him, as well-intentioned as it may be, looks downright menacing thanks to his lip piercing.

He pointedly looks away when Changkyun greets Kihyun with a kiss on the cheek.

They find seats on the tiered benches one side of the court, already talking. Minhyuk’s telling them a story about some girl that he heard from one of his friends and they’re laughing along at her date from hell. They get caught up in it so that it feels like it’s no sooner than they’ve sat down that the match is starting.

Minhyuk’s eyes find Jooheon’s and he shoots him a thumbs-up which Jooheon responds to with a smile that shows off his dimples. Hyunwoo comes into his line of sight, just then too and Minhyuk mouths  _ good luck _ at him. Hyunwoo salutes him and turns to focus as the umpire starts the game.

Minhyuk’s eyes drift over the other players when he sees someone that he definitely did not expect to see.

Hyungwon is stood in the front line, right in the middle. He’s dressed in the same light blue kit as everyone else, shorts finishing just above mid-thigh, and jersey quite clearly too big for his lean frame. His hair is pushed back with a white headband, showcasing his high cheekbones and downright elegant bone structure that Minhyuk has somehow never properly noticed before.

“Hyungwon Chae is on the team?” He asks suddenly, realising that he’s cut into the middle of Kihyun and Changkyun’s conversation. The pair of them exchange a look before looking at him weirdly.

“Yeah?” Kihyun says. “Did you not know this? You’ve been to games before.”

“I know I just ‒ I never noticed.”

Kihyun still looks very confused. “Is it that mind-blowing to you? Are you close with him or something?”

Minhyuk shakes his head before he can understand why he’s doing it. It’s not like his friendship with Hyungwon is some sort of dirty little secret or anything, just that it’s a bit of a weird result of circumstance to explain.

“I know him,” he amends. “Just not that well, apparently.”

Kihyun raises an eyebrow at him, but seems to accept it anyway and turns back to his conversation with Changkyun.

Minhyuk watches the game. It’s very fast and a lot of the time he can’t really make out what’s happening but it’s still entertaining and he enjoys it, getting into it. He cheers when Hyunwoo spikes or Hyungwon blocks or when Jooheon does anything really.

It’s not a very close game, and they win in just over an hour or so.

Minhyuk talks with his friends while they wait for the chatter to die down a bit before he feels eyes on him. He turns to see Hyungwon looking at him, an odd expression on his face. He’s taken the headband off now so that his fringe hangs in his face, still a little wet with sweat. Minhyuk stares back and Hyungwon raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll be right back,” Minhyuk says.

“What is it?” He asks as soon as he gets close enough to Hyungwon.

Hyungwon adjusts the towel hanging over his forearm.

“It's different,” Hyungwon says. And his voice is irritatingly neutral; Minhyuk can’t draw a thing from it as Hyungwon takes too long a pause, definitely on purpose. “Seeing you in the daylight. You’re different.”

Minhyuk doesn’t know what to say to that, mainly because he knows it’s true, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Hyungwon says. “You just are.”

Someone calls Hyungwon’s name and both of them turn at the same time to see a man with more muscles than should be legal and a large, toothy grin waving a sign with Hyungwon’s name on it at them.

Minhyuk hears Hyungwon laugh for the first time since he’s known him and he doesn’t think it would be exaggerating to say his heart stops completely still for a moment. He looks back at Hyungwon to see that he’s smiling. He was right; it is pretty.

It’s then that Minhyuk’s reminded just how little he knows about Hyungwon in the simple sense. Because he knows Hyungwon’s philosophies about the meaning (or lack thereof) of life, and the intimate details of his beliefs about love, but he doesn’t know a thing about his friends or what his major is.

“Sorry,” Hyungwon says, giving Minhyuk attention again. “I’ve got to go.” He gestures over at the man even though it’s a bit of a pointless action. “See you around?”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk says, a little delayed. “Of course. See you.”

He spins around, feeling dazed for some reason he doesn’t know only to immediately almost bump into someone.

An apology is half-way out his mouth when there are large hands on his shoulders steadying him and he looks up to see Hyunwoo’s face smiling down at him.

Minhyuk forces his face to mimic Hyunwoo’s own.

“You played great!” He says and coos at the way Hyunwoo’s ears go red.

“I’m glad you came,” Hyunwoo says back.

“Of course.” Minhyuk tilts his head a little. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Minhyuk, there’s actually something I wanted to ask you.”

“Go for it.”

Hyunwoo takes a deep breath and Minhyuk finds himself doing the same, nervous all of a sudden.

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

Minhyuk’s heart stops.

“With me,” Hyunwoo adds, as though that was the part Minhyuk was having trouble with.

It’s very silent then and Minhyuk is so overly aware of all the eyes on them, without even having to turn away from Hyunwoo to look at them.

He can see Hyunwoo’s expression grow more and more strained with each passing second he remains quiet so he forces the words that will make everyone happy out of his chest with the biggest grin he can muster.

“I’d love that. Very much.”

**___**

“How was the date?” Hyungwon asks.

Minhyuk looks up from his textbook and finds that Hyungwon is staring at him with that gaze that feels more like he is looking through you than at you. It’s unnerving but it’s now so synonymous with Hyungwon in Minhyuk’s mind that it’s harmless really.

“It went well, I think. We’re going out again on Friday.”

Hyungwon nods and seems to turn his next words over in his head for a moment. “Which version of you were you?”

Minhyuk frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s half-sure he knows the answer already.

“I just,” Hyungwon trails off, seemingly searching for the right words, “I think you’re different with me than you are with everyone else.”

Minhyuk blinks at him for a bit. It’s always been a little too easy to open up to Hyungwon, that’s the reason he’s in this situation to begin with.

“It’s just, when I’m around other people, I‒” this is his last chance to back out. His last chance to avoid speaking into existence one of the things he’s always kept hidden. But Hyungwon is still staring at him, unjudging and depressuring and he finds himself wanting someone to know.

“I want to not be so much like myself.”

It’s awkward phrasing; the words are jerky and fragmented as they fall from his lips but Minhyuk hopes Hyngwon understands why. He does. Because of course he does.

It sounds pathetic and Minhyuk hates himself for feeling it, for thinking it, for saying it.

Hyungwon nods. “I understand that. But you know… you know that yourself isn’t bad, right?”

Minhyuk hugs his knees to his chest. “It’s a bit much though, isn’t it? The fun, happy one. That’s the one people like, so I give it to them.”

Hyungwon doesn’t embarrass him by looking at him with pity. Instead, he smiles a tight-lipped smile.

“I think both are great.”

**___**

Hyunwoo is quite possibly the perfect boyfriend, even though they aren’t actually official boyfriends.

He texts Minhyuk to say good morning and good night every morning and every night. He buys him flowers and dinner and lets him pick the movie. He walks him to his dorm after they go out. He calls Minhyuk beautiful and kisses him expertly with unrestrained passion. He’s patient and he’s kind and Minhyuk wishes he could be better for him.

He feels like he’s not giving enough but Hyunwoo tells him it’s fine, that Minhyuk brings sunshine into his life and that’s enough but Minhyuk knows that it’s not.

Their relationship feels very utopic. And in that same way it doesn’t feel real. It all feels very up in the air and Minhyuk hates that he spends so much of it wondering when it will all come crashing down around him like rain that’s grown too heavy.

He tries though. If there’s one thing that can be said for him it’s that he really does try. He does all the things he knows you’re supposed to do when you like someone.

He always texts back and paints Hyunwoo a picture of them together and listens to Hyunwoo complain about volleyball training.

He tries his best. He just wishes it were enough.

And part of trying his best to be a good not-boyfriend to Hyunwoo means dedicating time to the budding relationship, which means no more late night excursions to the third-floor biology stairwell. He hasn’t properly spoken to Hyungwon in a long time now and he mourns the absence but doesn’t do a thing to change it. He can’t. Not when all of his efforts and energy are going into making Hyunwoo believe he’s a whole person worthy of all the time and attention Hyunwoo has been giving him.

  
  


Minhyuk thought he was doing pretty well, balancing all of his relationships and responsibilities and tricking everyone into thinking he’s a functioning person. His mind is constantly in overdrive but he’s keeping it together, keeping it hidden. And he’s proud of himself.

But then it all starts slipping like sand through his fingers.

**___**

His paintings all look dull.

Every single one of them plagued with that same feeling of incompleteness ‒ of wrongness ‒ that his landscape and his mirror were. He stares at them and he stares at them but the mistakes don’t become obvious and it drives him near crazy, staring at them day-in-day-out. 

His professor can tell he’s lacking. She tells him he needs to start buckling down and she questions where his motivation has gone and he doesn’t know how to tell her that he never really had it, only pretended and forced out faux-optimism through a combination of caffeine and fear.

His marks begin to drag down in marine biology, too. And his world is splintering around him with Minhyuk in the centre of it all, trying desperately to piece it all together with string but just embedding more broken wood in his fingers as he does so.

He begins declining invitations to hang out with Jooheon and Kihyun.

He makes excuses, saying he needs to catch up on work. Which he does need to do, he just doesn’t do it. He will lie in bed or on the floor of the stairwell and simply exist and do nothing else and that will still take all of his energy out of him.

He keeps rejecting Hyunwoo’s ideas for dates and he feels terrible and guilty and awful every time he does but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to keep his happy persona together long enough for an entire date and he’d rather Hyunwoo have nothing at all than have to deal with his empty, fraying self.

He doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know what’s happening to him.

Because he’s lived this far and he’s managed. He doesn’t know what’s changed and he doesn’t think it matters. He just wants it to stop before it can consume him, before he becomes the person he’s always avoided being.

He thinks he might be broken.

**___**

It shouldn't come as a surprise when Hyunwoo asks to break up, even though they were never properly together. But it still stings.

It stings like he's breathing down nettles instead of air, burning his throat and his lungs. It stings and it aches but he can’t even protest because what right does he have? It was his own uselessness that caused this to happen. His own inability to not make his own problems other people’s. His own pathetic weaknesses. He should be apologising, not holding back tears.

The nettles clog his airways, prick at the backs of his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out. Over and over. "I'm so sorry."

But Hyunwoo had only smiled sadly and stroked his fingers through Minhyuk’s hair. His roots are showing.

"Don't be sorry. I think you need to fix yourself before you try fixing our relationship."

_ Fix yourself. _

And he had said it so nicely and that had made it hurt so much worse. Because Minhyuk had always been broken, really. And now everyone could see it.

**___**

He lugs himself to the stairwell that night and takes out a watercolour pad and paints, feeling like each motion accosts him a great deal more effort than it should. But he can’t go to his dorm tonight. He can’t deal with the pity glances and the prying questions and the silent judgement because he knows it all already.

He launches straight into painting with no sketch. He’s drawn enough whales in his time by this point that there’s just no need.

He hates feeling how he’s feeling but it’s all that he’s been feeling lately. It’s awful, but it’s his life.

He feels a presence behind him and doesn’t have to look to know it’s Hyungwon. He’s thankful that Hyungwon chooses to say nothing, just watches him paint.

They stay like that for a while. Minhyuk drags his brush over the surface of the paper, layering different shades of blue and watching as a whale forms from the streaks of paint. Minhyuk works slowly, wanting to drag this out. He wants to put off having to leave and accept everything that’s happened and is going to happen.

“Do you think whales ever feel empty?” Minhyuk asks quietly. He sounds stupid, like a child but Hyungwon doesn’t say anything. Instead, Hyungwon seems to actually do him the courtesy of thinking about it.

“I think they do. I think everything in the universe does. At least, I hope they do,” Hyungwon says, his voice more gentle than Minhyuk thinks he’s ever heard it. “I don’t think they’ve truly lived if they don’t.”

“I don’t want them to feel like this.” Minhyuk’s voice is getting quieter, if that’s possible. “I don’t want anyone to ever feel like this.”

“There’s not only one way to feel empty,” Hyungwon says, and the way he says it is miraculously unpretentious, enough for Minhyuk to almost believe him. “Some day, it won’t hurt so much. To feel empty. Some day, being broken won’t feel like something to be fixed. Some day, you’ll be okay.”

Minhyuk laughs a little but it sounds wrong. “That’s a little optimistic of you. That is to say, so very unlike you.”

Hyungwon shrugs. “It’s not optimism. It’s fact.”

It’s obvious he’s making an effort to sound nonchalant and Minhyuk wouldn’t claim to know Hyungwon better than he knows about nuclear physics but he knows enough about humans that he recognises that tone and it makes him consider for a little moment. And he considers how he might have been so caught up in how different he was becoming that he forgot that other people can change, too.

He wants to say something about that, ask Hyungwon about himself. Ask what happened to make him change. Learn about this mysterious figure who only seems to exist when there is no one else around to observe him. Bend the unwritten rules they’ve obeyed until now to only talk about deep, existential and abstract things and never easy ones like what they had for lunch, or how many siblings they have.

“Are you empty?” He asks instead.

“Like a void,” is Hyungwon’s simple answer.

“Does it hurt?”

Hyungwon looks at Minhyuk and doesn’t speak until Minhyuk returns his gaze. Hyungwon’s eyes are hidden in overcasted shadows, light only coming from the windows behind him.

He looks distorted, unreal, but very alive. He doesn’t look empty. He looks full to the brim with thoughts and emotions and secrets.

“A little less everyday.”

Minhyuk takes that and settles into silence for a while, thinking it over as he paints.

“It’s been a long time,” he says. “And it’s only ever hurt worse and worse. I think I’m broken. I think the universe has abandoned me.”

It sounds stupid, immature to say out loud. But he’s not sure how else to phrase it. He doesn’t need to turn around to know Hyungwon’s frowning at him.

“I wish I had something for you. I wish I had some magical cure that made things okay and made it not hurt anymore.” Hyungwon’s voice is solid, dependable and so full of conviction.

“Those things don't exist. But you do. And I don't believe in much but I do believe that that means something. To be here, to live and breathe and do all the other shit we do ‒ that means something. I can't make everything alright but I can tell you that it doesn't have to be. You haven’t been abandoned by the universe, Minhyuk. What on earth makes you think that?”

And Minhyuk tells him. All about what he thinks of the universe and its abandoned places, especially the stairwell. And he fights to keep his voice steady as he does so.

When he’s finished, Hyungwon laughs lowly and Minhyuk spins his head around to fix him with a glare but he finds that Hyungwon’s smile isn’t unkind.

“What?” He snaps. He sounds petulant but he doesn’t care.

“I think it’s very telling that you find abandoned and empty places magical and fascinating but identify it as brokenness within yourself. I think you know you don’t need to be fixed, you’re just not letting yourself accept it.”

“You think I’m projecting onto a stairwell?”

Hyungwon shakes his head with a smile so small and private Minhyuk almost feels like he’s intruding.

“No, I think you’re projecting onto the universe. And I think you’re kinder with it than you are with yourself.” He pauses, like he’s unsure whether to continue. He decides to keep going, and Minhyuk is thankful he does. “It makes me sad. To see you like that. I miss your smile.”

Minhyuk looks back down at his painting.

“Be kinder to yourself, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says, like it’s a suggestion rather than an order.

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know,” Hyungwon admits. “But we’ll get there.”

They stay in silence until Minhyuk finishes his painting.

“It’s beautiful,” Hyungwon says. And Minhyuk agrees. It's the first painting of his in a while that doesn't look wrong. He laughs bitterly at that. Fuck the universe.

“Are you going home for summer?” Hyungwon asks.

Minhyuk nods. “You?” 

“Same.”

**___**

They exchange numbers for over the holidays, but Minhyuk knows as he inputs his number that neither of them have any intention of texting the other.

He doesn’t want to break the magic. He thinks that maybe some things are better off left abandoned.

**___**

Summer is long and Minhyuk spends it doing nothing in the most objective sense. He lies in bed and he drinks water and he doesn’t really do much else. He drinks tea with his parents in the evenings and talks to them about work and their vegetable patch in the back garden and never about himself.

It’s all very mundane and boring and yet it is still so very draining.

It takes so much energy to will himself to do anything. And he is so pathetic, lying there and stewing in his own uselessness that it brews into an ever-present self-hatred that commands all of his thoughts.

He’s getting worse and it’s a frightening thought but he cannot escape from it. Not when it is as obvious as the mess in his room he can’t be bothered to tidy and his unwashed hair. He’s getting worse and he’s sinking and he’s sinking and he just wants to hit rock bottom already.

The world continues to spin around him and Minhyuk remains very still and very empty.

He turns his phone off most days. Because otherwise it’s a relentless barrage from his friends and he cannot find the strength to have a conversation. When he gets back and sees them again, he’ll make up some lie and say his phone broke or something like that.

The guilt it brings is huge and heavy and cold.

Especially when Kihyun texts him because Kihyun is trying and Minhyuk is not and he is so very sorry for that. But he’s not doing anything to change it.

He’s trying his best but as of right now his best consists of waking up and maybe going downstairs and eating breakfast. Trying his best is going grocery shopping when his parents ask him to and needing to take a nap when he gets back. Trying his best is ignoring his friends because radio silence is better than whatever lackluster conversation he could give them, or accidentally lashing out because he’s finally at the end of his rope and he is still falling.

It feels a little like he’s been floating up in the air all this time, ignoring the rain that threatens to spill from him and into the world and drench all the people he loves. It’s like he’s been walking a tightrope for years that’s been growing thinner and thinner for months and he’s inevitably misplaced a step for the first time.

It would be going too far to call how he usually acts around his friends a façade. Because he is that person. It’s just a happier version of him. It’s how he remembers he used to act and be before everything got too difficult. He’s not fake; he’s just hiding the ugly parts and he doesn’t think that makes him a bad person.

It just became routine and now he’s lost it and he’s losing everything else as well and it’s awful but he can’t do anything about it. It feels like he’s a spectator, watching this all happen to someone else, unable to help but still feeling all of it, which sometimes involves feeling absolutely nothing at all and he can’t decide which is worse.

Summer drags on but goes past quickly and Minhyuk physically feels time pass him by. His friends all give up trying to contact him, one by one. Even Kihyun, though he lasts the longest. And Minhyuk wishes everything could just stop. Just for a little while.

The universe, of course, does no such thing. And before he knows it, he has to go back to uni and his roots have grown out.

He dyes it the night before he leaves home. Black because it’s easier to take care of, and because he’s grown a little sick of yellow.

**___**

He’s still rooming with Jooheon this year, and that’s good but also bad. Good because he loves Jooheon and knows his living habits and bad because it means Jooheon expects things out of Minhyuk’s character. Bad because it means Minhyuk needs to switch back on to the talkative, cheerful personality Jooheon knows him as and he’s not sure he can remember how to do that anymore.

He tries his best, but their interactions are still awkward. Jooheon asks what’s wrong and Minhyuk makes up a lie. He doesn’t know if Jooheon can see through him or not, but surprises himself to find out that he doesn’t care.

He feels detached, like he’s walking a sim through a life that isn’t his

He knows his friends are worried and he wishes they wouldn’t be, wishes his brain would just work properly. Kihyun looks at him, very concerned and a little scared and Mihyuk hates that he is the one responsible for drawing the emotion out of his best friend.

He’s glad Kihyun still has Changkyun to rely on and talk to, because Minhyuk is more than a little useless as a friend right now.

He doesn’t see Hyungwon, entirely on purpose. He avoids the stairwell as much as he can because he knows that with Hyungwon he’ll be forced to talk about it and he really doesn’t want to, not even with him. He just wants to wait it out until it all gets better, however long that might take. And he’ll keep holding on and he’ll keep hoping without any actual faith it will.

He just wants it to all be over already. He’s had enough sadness to last a lifetime. He doesn’t want to be cured or happy every day or anything ludicrous or far-fetched like that; he just wants to be able to act like a person again.

**___**

Despite it all, for some reason, his friends still care about him. And Minhyuk loves them and knows that they are trying but so is he and it is not working.

Kihyun and Jooheon drag him to the mall one Saturday afternoon and Minhyuk goes along because he feels guilty and he has missed his friends, even if he doesn’t really want to subject them to his presence. He does as much as he can. He participates in conversations and smiles and asks questions and he can tell they’re happy about it. He just wishes any of it felt real.

They take him around his favourite clothes stores and Minhyuk buys new jeans and jackets for the sake of buying them; he lets Kihyun talk his ear off about his and Changkyun’s most recent date and Jooheon talk to him about his newest song.

It all feels very normal, on a surface level. But nowhere deeper than that.

The mall is crowded, and usually that would be fine by Minhyuk but now all the people seem too close and too loud and everything else he doesn’t want to deal with. He pushes through it, though. Because he kind of has to. The world isn’t going to stop and give him time to get his shit together.

They walk through the food court, Kihyun and Jooheon arguing about where to eat and that’s when Mihyuk sees him.

Hyungwon. Engaged in conversation with the same guy who was at the volleyball game. Dressed in a long coat and an easy, relaxed smile on his face. Minhyuk wants to look away but he can’t for some reason he doesn’t want to know.

Hyungwon looks back over at him and his smile falters. His eyes grow wider and he stops in his tracks. He looks like he’s seen a ghost and maybe in some way he has.

Kihyun notices that Minhyuk’s not paying attention and follows his line of sight.

“Go,” he says, pushing Minhyuk in Hyungwon’s direction. “We’re going to get food; you go talk.”

He and Jooheon are walking off before Minyuk even has time to shake his head and start chanting  _ no. _ And when he looks back, Hyungwon is walking towards him and Minhyuk has all of three seconds to prepare before Hyungwon is in front of him for the first time in months.

He doesn’t know when he started feeling uncomfortable around Hyungwon and he doesn’t like it but there’s not much he can do to change it.

Neither of them say anything for what feels like a long time. Hyungwon’s gaze is as mysterious and unreadable as ever as it scans over him. Minhyuk wonders what he looks like to Hyungwon. Whether he looks as gaunt and worn as he feels, or whether none of his emotions are translated to his appearance.

Hyungwon is the first to break the silence.

“You’re different,” Hyungwon says.

And the words are startling familiar but laced with such depth that it’s entirely opposite to the way he had said it before. His tone isn’t as flat, and there’s a lot to unpick there but Minhyuk doesn’t bother. He’s fully aware that he’s changed. And it’s hardly surprising to him that Hyungwon has, too.

Minhyuk still doesn’t speak, because he isn’t sure what to say. Hyungwon doesn’t seem to begrudge him that but then again, he’s always known Minhyuk just a little too well.

“Let’s get slushies,” he says abruptly, his voice louder now.

“What?” The word falls from Minhyuk’s mouth.

“Slushies,” Hyungwon says. “Let’s get some. I’ll pay.”

And then he’s walking off to the slushie kiosk and Minhyuk trails behind him, feeling a little lost.

Twenty minutes later and they’re sitting on a bench in front of a sportswear store, looking at some children running around the indoor fountain. It’s so awfully normal that Minhyuk feels out of place and very in his head. He wonders if Hyungwon is going to try and pull him out. He hopes not; he knows it would be futile.

He watches as middle-aged women fuss about on the phone with too many shopping bags in one hand. And teenagers laugh too loudly, slapping each other on the backs and making memories they’ll remember when they’re sad. And just people. People doing things and living. He wonders how many of them are empty.

It's funny. And perhaps it says something about the state of him that he feels just as empty in a crowded place swarming with people as he does in an empty stairwell at four in the morning. But not nearly as whole as he does in that same stairwell with Hyungwon sat next to him.

He takes a sip of his slushie. It tastes like dried ice and sugar which, in essence, is all a slushie is. It’s still disappointing.

The world feels like it’s stuck in the middle of a transition from one PowerPoint slide to the next. Nothing fancy, a casual fade-in, fade-out. Not really either and yet somehow both at the same time. Fuzzy and dysfunctional. Paused. A gap in time that lies between two second markers around the edge of a clock. That exists but is never defined.

“How was your summer?” Hyungwon asks tentatively.

Minhyuk contemplates lying but dismisses the idea when he realises that Hyungwon already knows.

“Pretty shit,” he says. “Yours?” He adds belatedly.

“Surprisingly good,” Hyungwon says. It doesn’t make Minhyuk sad in the way he thought it might. He’s glad for Hyungwon; he deserves to be happy. Everyone does. “Hoseok ‒ who I was with earlier ‒ and I went to Paris.”

Minhyuk feels his heart fall and doesn’t want to say why. It’s a stupid, childish emotion. He doesn’t know what he expected. “The city of love,” he says and hates how pained he sounds.

Hyungwon laughs, a musical thing. “Please don’t make me think about Hoseok like that; he’s basically the brother I never had.”

Hope is the first positive emotion Minhyuk feels in months but he does not act on it. Instead he just nods. “I hope you had a great time.” It’s completely sincere.

“I wish you had been there,” Hyungwon says quietly.

The words make Minhyuk’s chest warm. “Why? I wouldn’t have been much fun.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Minhyuk refuses to look at Hyungwon, he doesn’t want to see the look in Hungwon’s eyes and lose himself.

“Trust me,” he finds himself saying. “I spent all summer in bed being sad; my brain doesn’t fucking work. You wouldn’t have wanted to be around me.”

“What do you mean your brain doesn’t work?” His voice is soft and Minhyuk doesn’t know if he deserves that. “Like, mentally ill?”

Minhyuk sighs and decides he doesn’t have much else to lose.

“Yeah, I got a diagnosis a while ago because I told Kihyun I thought there was something wrong with me and he encouraged me to go see a doctor. All they gave me was a phone number I could have Googled for myself. It set me back more than it helped, I think.”

He remembers sitting in the doctor’s room, nervously picking at his nails and trying to describe what it felt like and coming off cliché because really there aren’t any words for it. The doctor had just looked at his computer the entire time, typing and typing as Mihyuk spoke, the taps of the keyboard louder than his voice.

“Kihyun thinks I’m better now, because I told him I was getting help because I fully intended to. And I just never did. I thought I’d be fine and for a while I managed.”

His slushie is completely melted now, sugary water in a plastic cup in his hands.

“Because people are compassionate when you tell them you’re mentally ill but after the fifth time you take a week to reply to them or cancel your plans they get tired of it and I can’t even blame them. So I put my best self forward to them all because they all have their own problems; they don’t need a friend who’s just going to give them more.”

He takes a pause to get his breathing under control. It’s like pulling the plug in a bathtub after years of letting water trickle in. An onslaught of pent-up anger and fury and grief all channelling out at once.

“And no one really cares about depression unless you’re holding a gun to your head or you’ve already tied your noose. They don’t care so much when it’s just‒ perpetual sadness and emptiness or when you can still smile in public.

“We’ve normalised self-destruction so no one feels like they deserve or need help. They would have all left if I were sad all the time so I forced myself to not be when I was around them.

“It’s ugly and it’s gross and it’s me and I don’t want it to be.”

Quiet again. Minhyuk is breathing heavily through his nose, eyes burning and nose runny.

“You never told me.” It’s not an accusation, and Minhyuk is glad for it because he cannot deal with anger right now.

“I don’t like thinking about it so I don’t.”

“Are you…” Hyungwon trails off but it’s clear what he means to say. For the first time since Minhyuk’s known him, he sounds scared but he still does not sound judgemental.

“No,” Minhyuk says, a little too quickly. It’s quiet for a moment. “Not anymore,” he relents.

It’s silent for a while again.

Minhyuk laughs bitterly, breaking through the quiet. “I’ve spent so long wondering if the universe has abandoned me, when really I’d just abandoned myself all along. You were right. I was projecting onto the universe.”

He watches as a group of students pool together money for a meal deal and a dad chases after his son. The mall is playing some shallow pop song and Minhyuk thinks that this is a ridiculous place to be tearing his heart out of his chest like this.

“Do you mind if I speak for a little?” Hyungwon asks, ever so gentle. Like Minhyuk just might break. Mihyuk’s glad Hyungwon understands him. “I just have some things I would like you to hear.”

Minhyuk gestures to say  _ go ahead _ but he still does not look away from the life happening around them.

“I think everyone's a little abandoned on the inside,” Hyungwon says. “We abandon ourselves and so do others and we're left fixating on the little things to make us feel a bit less like we've been left behind.

“And that’s not to say that each of our struggles aren’t real and painful and valid. And I’m definitely not saying it to undermine your mental illness because no one should ever have to go through that. Ever.” His voice is hard and Minhyuk can tell he means everything he's saying, not just feeding Minhyuk lines he thinks he wants to hear.

“Saying that someone should suck it up just because their experience isn’t unique or they’re not the only one who feels like that is bullshit and I need you to know that. Just because we’re all abandoned doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I don’t think that it gets better as the years go by. I think we sell ourselves the idea of ‘it gets better’ because what else can we say? If we don’t have a future that’s better than the present then why are we still clinging to today and tomorrow and the day after. We need a ‘better’ and it’s the belief in that that keeps us going even if it’s fake.”

He takes a break to breathe, collect his thoughts.

“I don’t think even the universe knows how to find all the abandoned parts of her again. And I think that we think we can take things like books and songs and concerts and knowledge and fill ourselves with them until we become synonymous with the things we love, rather than just an empty shell listening to rain beat down on a windowsill like all the other billions of similar souls across the world.

“I think we build skyscrapers and go deep-sea diving and explore the galaxies and create art to be talked about for thousands of years to try and fill the hole in our chests and we never do.

“But the by-products of our emptiness and our misery are extraordinary and wondrous and it makes me think that, surely, such greatness can stem from happiness as well. That it isn’t entwined so intrinsically with sadness that humans are destined to just live in it for eternity. That the hole in our chest is something good.

“I think we take these things and we take and we take until we can’t possibly fit anything else inside of us but we keep going. Just like the universe, we keep expanding and expanding and filling ourselves with more shit made by people just as hollow as us and we pretend it gives us meaning when the only meaning we really need is the one we give to ourselves.

“Because isn’t it just so human to never be satisfied? To keep going and going. Perseverance. Resilience. We get it preached at us constantly as children. They throw these words at us and they carve the hole in our chest to constantly want more.”

He’s looking at Minhyuk now and Minhyuk can feel Hyungwon’s gaze burning resolutely into the side of his face but he continues to stare at the fountain.

“You’re not broken, Minhyuk. You’re normal. And it’s horrible that that is our normal but that’s just how it is. And you’re not okay with it because they tell us that normal is bad and special is good and they tell us to find our niche and our unique selling point and they forget to tell us how to stop and just look at a video of a whale for a moment.

“We aren’t the bands we listen to or movies we watch, or the things we create; we are only ourselves, empty and broken. And surviving.

“We’re all a little abandoned but some of us refuse to accept it. Others do accept it and live their lives in misery. And then there’s other people. Happy people. People who know and are aware of that gaping hole in their chest but see it for what it really is. Not something to be fixed or mended or filled but something that makes us so undeniably, ineffably real. And it's a rare thing to feel real nowadays.

“And that’s not to say that you should see your depression as a good thing because, honestly, fuck depression. It’s to say that you are a person with value and worth despite it. That you may be broken but you’re still a beautiful soul with so much life to live.

“We’re never going to completely fix ourselves, I don’t think. And aiming for it will only make us feel worse in the end. But we can achieve happiness and satisfaction while accepting that we’re broken. And I think that’s enough.”

They sit in the aftermath of Hyungwon’s words for a long time as Minhyuk struggles to wrap his head around it all.

It’s not a revelation in the way the Bible or a particularly good burger is. It’s not a reset on his entire life, a moment marked in history that he remembers as the time everything suddenly made sense.

But it’s definitely something. And Minhyuk hasn’t felt something in a very long while. And in that way, it’s life-changing. More so than anything else that has ever happened.

“Thank you,” he says. “You were right; I needed to hear that.”

“So did I,” Hyungwon says. “No need to thank me.”

Minhyuk looks at Hyungwon. Really looks at him. Hyungwon is many things but in this moment he is open and beautiful and everything Minhyuk is not. And yet he is still sitting there, making time for the boy with the broken brain and reassuring him that he is not alone and there is happiness for him in the future.

He is telling Minhyuk that he doesn’t need to hide the ugly parts, he needs to embrace them and then he will be free. He’s telling him it will be difficult but he will hold his hand through it.

And Minhyuk is overwhelmed and it’s such a change from being empty he doesn’t know what to do with himself. So he just looks at Hyungwon, his constant despite everything else changing.

“I don’t want to be sad anymore,” he says.

Hyungwon hugs him tight and Minhyuk wishes he could stay there forever, still as the world spins around them.

“I think you should call that phone number,” Hyungwon says in his ear, unmocking and kind.

Minhyuk nods into his shoulder.

Hyungwon lets him stay there for as long as he needs, which is a long time. Hyungwon smells like vanilla and chamomile and Minhyuk thinks that he is so so lucky to have found him wandering a stairwell at four in the morning.

When Minhyuk finally pulls away, he doesn’t move far. His face is mere inches from Hyungwon’s. They stare at each other. It’s not love; he doesn’t know Hyungwon nearly enough for that. But it’s such a passionate like.

A kiss feels like it would be a mistake so they don’t.

Minhyuk knows they both want to, though. And, for now, that’s enough. For they know that their hearts and minds are too raw and mending in this moment. And they have tomorrow, and the day after, and all of the days to come.

Minhyuk sits back but he stays close to Hyungwon.

“By the way,” he says, smiling properly for the first time in so long, “what are you studying?”

Hyungwon’s laugh is startled and incredulous.

“Double major like you,” he says, still smiling. “Photography and geography.”

**___**

It’s a few days later in the dark room when it finally happens.

One second he’s pressing into Hyungwon’s side, looking at the developing photographs and making a joke and the next he’s pressing his lips against Hyungwon’s and being effectively shut up.

Hyungwon’s fingers are gentle on the underside of his jaw, tilting his head up and his other hand is on top of Minhyuk’s own that had been resting on the workbench. The kiss is languid, relaxed, as is Hyungwon’s very nature and Minhyuk lets himself be lulled into the trance it induces.

His eyes close; his free hand weaves into Hyungwon’s hair and he leaves everything else behind as his mind is filled with nothing but Hyungwon.

They pull apart for air, but stay close, both breathing heavily.

“Worth the wait?” Hyungwon whispers.

“Worth everything.”

Minhyuk closes the gap for another kiss.

**___**

Minhyuk doesn’t even have to say anything to Kihyun before he’s being pulled into a hug, crushing and bony and blissful because Kihyun just  _ knows _ .

“I love you; you know that. No matter what. All the parts of you.”

Minhyuk nods as much as he can in the tight hold.

“And you also know that the rain that the clouds drop are parts of themselves that got too heavy. And rain might just be the most natural thing in the world.”

Minhyuk smiles. And he thinks that if there’s one thing that might come close to filling the gap, it’s the people he’s blessed to know.

**___**

He and Hyungwon go on an expedition together a few months later. Minhyuk lets Hyungwon plan the entire thing, as the resident geography student (now that he actually knows that).

They take a train and then they get on a boat and Hyungwon doesn’t reveal a single thing but that’s okay with Minhyuk. He still pesters Hyungwon for information though, more for entertainment than anything else. 

He’s laughing and he’s not sure he ever stops the entire journey, even with the wind cold and harsh against his face and Hyungwon’s fake glares.

The sea is stunningly blue, gorgeous and pure. Minhyuk gazes at how the boat turns it into a foamy white where it makes contact with the water and leaves a trail of it behind them as they travel before it dissolves into the stillness of the ocean again. The sun is bright but not hot and coldness nips at his nose and his ears.

Hyungwon, bundled up in far more clothes than Minhyuk is, lets Minhyuk slip his shaking hands into Hyungwon’s gloves alongside his own hands after Minhyuk presses them against his neck and makes him yelp.

Minhyuk’s chest feels light and Hyungwon is close.

The boat comes to a stop miles off of the coast and Minhyuk looks at Hyungwon quizzically but his boyfriend’s face gives nothing away ‒ that’s a quality he’s managed to attain even through the change in their relationship.

Hyungwon presses himself into Minhyuk’s back, taking off his gloves to wrap his arms around Minhyuk’s waist and hook his chin over his shoulder as Minhyuk stands looking over the railing.

It feels magical, like he fits perfectly in this space. And Minhyuk smiles knowing that Hyungwon cannot see his face. This smile is for him.

When he sees the first whale he cannot look away.

And when it disappears back under the water, he fumbles to find Hyungwon’s eyes. He looks very amused as Minhyuk gapes at him.

“Thought you might want to see your muse in real life,” he shrugs, but there’s a glint to his eyes that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to Minhyuk.

_ I love you, _ Minhyuk thinks,  _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

“I love them,” he says. “This is a dream come true.”

Hyungwon’s hold on his waist tightens like he knows what Minhyuk wanted to say. And he’ll say it, just not right now.

Minhyuk catches Hyungwon’s lips in a searing kiss. Their lips are both a little chapped from the cold but it’s everything. It’s love. And Minhyuk hopes Hyungwon knows. If the look in his eyes when he pulls away is anything to go by, he does.

“Hey, hey, look,” Hyungwon pinches Minhyuk’s waist and gestures with his head.

Minhyuk turns to look at the new whales that are appearing. They’re even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

“They’re stunning,” he whispers low under his breath.

“Yeah, they are.” Minhyuk doesn’t have to look back to know that Hyungwon is not looking at the whales.

He watches as the whales swim, twisting their way through the clear water. They're majestic. Powerful and brilliant. Minhyuk couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“You want to draw them?” Hyungwon asks. His voice is delicate, like a blade of grass in the breeze.

Minhyuk shakes his head. “Just wanna look.”

All in all, it's not as life-changing as their talk on that bench in that shopping mall. But Minhyuk is happy. And he takes that moment and puts it in that empty gap in his chest but he doesn't pray it makes him whole. He keeps it safe as a thing to look back on when he's sad. Somehow, that's different. Somehow, that's better.

**___**

They’re in the quad in the early hours of the morning.

Everything is bathed in varying shades of violet and indigo and that includes Hyungwon. He is a painting come to life, yet so tangible and real Minhyuk can scarcely believe it. Lying on his stomach on the grass, eyes like liquid midnight and laugh daring in the otherwise silent night.

God, Minhyuk loves him.

The quad is a wide, open space. Abandoned, much like the third-floor biology stairwell but also nothing like it at all. They haven’t been back there in a while and Minhyuk isn’t sad about it.

In these moments, the rest of the world does not exist for them in the best way. Not because they have been abandoned, but because they are enough by themselves.

“Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk brings himself out of his reverie to look at Hyungwon.

“Yes, babe?”

“Sing that song for me? One last time?”

Minhyuk knows exactly which song he means immediately and his blood runs cold even as he flushes red with embarrassment.

“No.”

“Please! I’m not making fun of you I promise.” And it would be so much easier to believe him if he weren’t so obviously holding back laughter. “It just reminds me of when we first met.”

“I hate you,” Minhyuk says. They both know it’s a lie.

“Please?”

Minhyuk gives in, only because he loves him. And he sings.

  
  


Hyungwon doesn't make him feel whole or anything poetic and scripted like that.

But he makes him feel like it's okay to be broken. It's okay to be abandoned and alone because so is the universe. And the universe is still pretty damn impressive.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> i wrote this fic in like three days so sorry if it feels rushed but i hope you enjoyed and if you did please leave kudos and comments they mean a lot :))
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/whatisanult)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/whatisanult)


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